29. 29
29
“Alright. Let me see the goods.” Maya clapped from the couch in her pink pinstripe blouse and gray slacks. Her black hair was clipped up, though her features seemed less youthful and vibrant than before.
Barrett happily obliged without a hint of hesitancy, posing confidently in her living room in a Roman-style toga draped over his shoulder, across his chest, and down to his shins. The ensemble was cinched at the waist with a decorative golden curtain tie, one that resembled a rope.
“So?” He stepped forward, sunlight glinting off a pair of gold sandals and a metal laurel leaf headband that pinned his raven-black hair against his temples. “What do you think?”
“The Romans would be appalled, but I love it.”
“What? Why?”
“Well, for starters, the rich wore the longer togas like that. They could afford the extra fabric. It was a sign of opulence. Second, they were made of wool, not cheap polyester. They were also pinned, not sewn together, and they were a sign of status, so… having you wear a long toga to clean my house would have been fairly offensive.”
Barrett laughed. “Hey, Man Maid never claimed to be historically accurate, just fun.” He flexed his biceps. “I dare a Roman to make this outfit look this good.”
“The empire fell in 476 A.D., so none could really contest you.” Maya’s features softened.
The bags under Maya’s eyes were noticeable, and she didn’t hold her smile long.
He tilted his head, looking her up and down. “You alright? You seem exhausted.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… problems at work.”
“Tell me about it.”
She paused, spinning around. “I mean this with no offense, I swear, but… I don’t think you’d understand it.”
“So? I’m a good listener. Sometimes, talking it out helps.” He took her by the hand and dragged her toward the kitchen. “I can listen while I clean.”
“Dear God, where have men like you been my entire life?”
Two hours later, Barrett was still nodding along, listening intently as Maya wove a complicated tapestry of employee relationships and software jargon. She rambled on about software written in C++, which was, ironically, just about the grade he earned in his high school computer class.
She discussed the intricacies of code complications and how one small error somewhere could disrupt an entire software program. She’d been reviewing this particular section of code for three days and was unable to find the problematic issue.
“And now everything is starting to look like a blur. I have to fix this, but it’s like my brain is completely fried. I am having trouble doing basic stuff like… deciding what to make for dinner and what shirt to wear for work. I’m somewhere between frazzled and needing a shrink .”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.” She nodded, reaching for the red wine decanter on the counter. Barrett tossed down his scrub sponge, wiped his hands on his toga, and took a seat beside her.
He watched as she poured herself another liberal glass of wine and held the rest of the bottle out to him. “Can I get you a glass?”
“No, thanks.” He studied her face up close. “No offense, but Maya, when was the last time you slept?”
“Last night.”
“For how long ?”
She hesitated, swirling the liquid around her glass, eyes intensely focused on it to avoid eye contact.
“Three hours, give or take.” She paused. “I really have to find this error. People are depending on me to find this one tiny little screw-up. Our clients are going to jump ship if I can’t get it figured out, like now .”
“Alright.” He removed his golden headband and set it on her head. “Follow-up question… when was the last time you cut loose and did something other than this?”
She tried to think through the foggy haze of exhaustion and the hum of the wine.
“I’m not sure if you heard me when I said people need me to fix this. Our company is at stake. People’s jobs are at stake. I can’t just go off and have fun. That wouldn’t solve anything.”
“Maya, you deserve a life of your own. Your coding issue has had everything frozen for days, right?”
Nodding her head, tears welled in her tired eyes. She quickly wiped them away. “Yeah.”
“One more night won’t hurt.”
She scoffed, shaking her head before Barrett gently grabbed her chin. “You have to clear your head. You are too close to the problem. You just gotta step away for a bit. Get some sleep. Get out and live a little.”
“And do what? I don’t have any friends here yet.” She waved her glass, spilling a little bit of wine on the counter. Like lightning, Barrett was on his feet, snatching up a paper towel to clean it.
“What about your coworkers?” he asked sincerely, worried eyes staring at her with sincere concern. “Don’t you have any work friends you can go get a bite to eat with? Or a beer?”
“Barrett, nobody wants to hang out with their boss in their free time.”
“Come out with me tonight.”
“Barrett, you are so out of my league it’s uncomfortable to even look at you sometimes. I can’t—”
“No, Maya, not on a date ,” he interrupted. “I’ll introduce you to a few people here, one of which I think you might have stuff in common with. We’ll drink, cut loose, and have a few beers. Hell, maybe break some laws. It’ll be so fun. You gotta see some of Jackson Hole.”
“I can’t.”
“Maya, let me show you a good time. We gotta get you out of this house. Please? For me?”
She pinched her eyes closed, shaking her head at his insistence. “Fine.”
“Great. I’ll swing by and pick you up at seven, alright?”
“You don’t have to—”
“I know, but I want to. Until then, you have one assignment. And, Maya, this is crucial.”
She stared up at him blankly.
“Take a nap . If anyone has earned it, it’s you.”